


deliciate

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Extra Treat, F/F, Introspection, Kissing, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8597569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: At the thought of Leia, Toryn cannot help but smile down at her station, a flutter of happy nerves twisting and twining through her stomach. Some days, it feels like Leia is the only source of warmth to be found on the entire planet. It’s Leia who makes the place seem almost habitable—genuinely habitable, not this forced habitability that requires constantly humming heaters and cold-weather gear just to survive.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Wavesinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/gifts).



The only thing Toryn knows about Hoth is it’s cold. Breath stealingly, lip crackingly, skin pricklingly cold. She hasn’t bothered to find out how cold exactly—really kriffing cold, according to some of the snowspeeder pilots—she’s afraid it would be too demoralizing to the rest of the troops, to herself, to anyone with an ounce of sense in their head, to learn what ‘really kriffing cold’ truly means. The weather tracers probably know, those guys with their massive droids and inscrutable readings and daily reports droned over the comms to say there’s another ice storm coming in, but nobody wants to ask. Not anyone Toryn spends time with anyway.

Basically, she hates Hoth. Can’t wait to get off of this frozen, deserted backwater.

Can’t imagine, either, anywhere else she’d rather be. Not while the Rebellion must still fight against the Empire. Not while Leia— _Princess_ , no, _Commander_ Leia—must still fight against the Empire.

At the thought of Leia, Toryn cannot help but smile down at her station, a flutter of happy nerves twisting and twining through her stomach. Some days, it feels like Leia is the only source of warmth to be found on the entire planet. It’s Leia who makes the place seem almost habitable—genuinely habitable, not this forced habitability that requires constantly humming heaters and cold-weather gear just to survive.

“Commander!” someone, Lieutenant Jaspa, Toryn thinks, snaps from the far end of the control room. Immediately, about ten other people jump to their feet, spines straightening smartly.

“At ease,” the woman in question, their commander, their princess, answers, low, but Toryn, though across the room, strains to hear her for just that reason. Smiling, she reaches for Jaspa, wraps her hand around the woman’s upper arm, focus entirely on Jaspa. “How are you?”

“Good, ma’am.”

“Good.” She moves on, whispering greetings to everyone who crosses her path, even raising her hand to acknowledge the people at stations well across the room. Each of them puffs up with pride, one by one, in a way Toryn is intimately familiar with and experiences herself on a regular basis.

Brushing her abdomen, Toryn, too, climbs to her feet, Leia approaching her with swift, sure steps. She threatens to take Toryn’s breath away, cheeks pink from the frigid air, baby-fine hairs framing her face despite the tightly coiled braid otherwise wrapped around the crown of her head. Leia grins at her, nodding, eyes crinkling at the corners.

As she strides forward, she flicks open a pouch on her belt, the white flashing under the harsh overhead light, fingers slipping inside to pull out a small square of flimsy.

“Looks like I’m just the messenger today,” she says, only half an explanation.

Toryn pulls the headset from her ears, heart thundering as Leia nears—will she ever not be affected? No, probably not. “Ma’am,” she answers, voice braced against the tremulous waver that threatens to expose her. Reaching to take the flimsy, she wills her hands to still.

“From General Rieekan.”

Another piece of the explanation. And the last when she peers down at the note scrawled.

 _Announce proximity alert drill – 18:32_.

Toryn peers up, nodding, decisive. A job she can do. “Understood, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Leia replies, prim, her hand falling to Toryn’s shoulder, curving gently over the thick, quilted vest she’s taken to wearing constantly, just that little extra layer of necessary comfort in this place.

*

Toryn’s finger hovers over the switch on her console, as she draws a deep breath and closes her eyes for a moment. She mentally runs through the announcement she’s supposed to make, a little nervous despite having done this several times before. She thinks she’ll always be nervous doing this. “Red Alert, Red Alert,” she says, smooth, calm, decisive, speaking into the comms, flicking another switch to raise the alarms. “Proximity Alert Drill in Progress. Repeat. Proximity Alert Drill in Progress.”

The effect is instantaneous, her colleagues erupting into a flurry of motion and sound, speaking to one another and across comm channels. Waiting, feeling like the calm center to a storm, she watches the others in the room with her at work, keeping an eye out for whoever will be bringing her the next round of announcements. Her fingers click away at her console, nails tapping out a staccato rhythm that only she can hear.

The din grows even more raucous as Leia’s voice lifts itself above the rest as she jogs forward. “Excuse me,” she says, twisting to avoid bumping into Jaspa, but not slowing down in the slightest. “Toryn!”

Opening her palm, she shows off another square of flimsy.

With a nod, Toryn readies herself to make another announcement. Despite this merely being a drill, her gut tightens in anticipation as she wonders just what they’ll be facing for this exercise. Imperials? False alarm? Leia reaches her side and hands off the flimsy, Toryn reading it quickly and getting to work.

 _See you later,_ Leia mouths, while everyone is distracted, a slight hesitance visible in her eyes.

“Imperial Star Destroyer dropping out of hyperspace,” she says, eyes trained on Leia’s face the whole time. She nods, continuing her announcement without even a hitch in her delivery. “Approach in 5 minutes. Scramble fighters.”

Leia nods back, and moves on, presumably to return to General Rieekan’s side. Toryn watches her leave and wonders whether this will always be the case. Whether Leia will always walk away from her, important concerns dogging her heels.

Toryn hopes not, but she suspects Leia will always find herself doing this kind of work. And Toryn? Toryn will always be right there by her side, helping in whatever way she can.

*

“Hey,” Leia says, slipping into Toryn’s cramped quarters, coming up to stand behind her as she shrugs out of her vest and reaches into her Rebellion-issued footlocker for her favorite off-duty sweater. Reaching around her, Leia takes the sweater from her hands, holds it up and open so that Toryn can slip her arms through it and duck her head to put it on.

“Hey,” Toryn answers, turning, Leia standing so close to her, heat emanating from her skin. Delicious heat that Toryn wants to sink into—and here, she can, at least as much as one person can do so, her arms circling Leia’s waist, cheek resting against Leia’s shoulder. Her lips press against Leia’s neck, Leia’s pulse pounding against her mouth.

Leia’s hands come up to scratch at Toryn’s hairline, her fingers loosening the careful coiffure of Toryn’s hair. They can damn regulations here in this room. Out there, Leia is Toryn’s commander. In here… in here they are Leia and Toryn. And Leia seems intent to muss Toryn as much as possible, her touch roving over Toryn’s skin.

“You did well today,” Leia says, the Rebellion never far from her thoughts, her breath skimming the skin of Toryn’s temple. “All of you.”

“I know.” Toryn smiles. “I was there for the post-mortem. General Rieekan was pleased.”

“I suppose you were.” Laughing, Leia tips Toryn’s chin up. A funny notion, since Toryn has a few inches on Leia when she’s not hugging Leia close, back bent forward slightly. Usually it’s Toryn doing the tipping. But Toryn’s okay with that, because it allows Leia to kiss her properly, her lips sweet and soft and smooth against Toryn’s, gentle, yet demanding.

Wonderful, too. Always wonderful. Toryn can’t get enough of it. Will probably never get enough of it.

“I was pleased,” Leia says, voice husky, breath a little labored.

“I know that, too.”

Leia’s eyes flash and darken. “Let me show my appreciation?”

Toryn’s nerves buzz pleasantly as she grasps Leia tight by the hand to guide her toward her bunk. Small and uncomfortable though it might be, it now holds so many treasured memories for her. “Of course,” she says.

She is more than happy to add another happy moment to that list.


End file.
